525,600 Minutes
by True Colours
Summary: How do you measure a year? Fujiwara Zakuro has five minutes left to win Keiichiro's heart. Song-fic, challenge-fic, fluff-fic with a touch of humour. Commissioned by Essence of Gold.


**Five Hundred Twenty-five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes**

**A/N: This fic is in response to a challenge from Essence of Gold to write a ZakuroXKeiichiro fic entitled...don't make me type it out again. I had one week, and I only started it last night. It's a song called Seasons of Love, and 525,600 minutes is the number of minutes in a year. I hope you enjoy this EXTREMELY fluffy oneshot. Yes, you heard that right, ONESHOT! Here is the song, and then I'll let you get started:**

_525,600 minutes,  
525,000 moments so dear.  
525,600 minutes -  
how do you measure, measure a year?  
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.  
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes –  
How do you measure a year in the life?  
How about love?  
How about love?  
How about love?  
Measure in love.  
Seasons of love._

525,600 minutes!  
525,000 journeys to plan.  
525,600 minutes -  
How can you measure the life of a woman or man?

In truths that she learned,  
or in times that he cried.  
In bridges he burned,  
or the way that she died.

_It's time now to sing out,  
Though the story never ends.  
Let's celebrate remember a year in the life of friends.  
Remember the love!  
Remember the love!  
Remember the love! Measure in love.  
Seasons of love! Seasons of love._

Zakuro had never broken a New Year's resolution in her life.

Well, except for the one where she'd resolved to lose five inches off her hips in time for a Gucci fashion show. She's kept it up for five weeks until she passed out in the middle of a dance class and called the director personally to tell him exactly where he could stick his stupid diet regime. Nowadays she got a little buzz of satisfaction every time she _didn't_ deny herself dessert.

The idea of breaking this one didn't make her nearly so happy. Zakuro checked her watch. 525,595 minutes since last New Year, when she'd made her vow. She didn't have long left to make it good.

Five minutes, to be precise.

Five minutes to get Akasaka Keiichiro to fall in love with her.

It wasn't exactly a hopeless case. She'd done quite a lot of groundwork over the last year, getting on friendly terms with him and gaining his trust, but they'd never progressed beyond cordial friendship. She supposed she should have made her move earlier, but like a superstitious child she'd been clinging to the night of New Year's Eve, as though it were some kind of good luck charm...

For a couple of guys, Ryou and Keiichiro really did know how to throw a good party. The café was filled with couples eating canapés and dancing to the music of a string quartet. The food smelled excellent; of course Keiichiro had come up trumps again. Zakuro frowned irritably as a couple wheeled between her and the object of her affections, cutting him off from view. Like her he was not joining in the party, which was out of character for both of them; she, the star, and he, the consummate host. He was turned towards her but his head was bowed over his large sketch pad, the one where he used to draw cakes. He had been sitting alone at his table all evening, drawing, and she had been standing against the opposite wall, watching him.

_Oh God,_ Zakuro thought, watching him carefully pencilling in some detail, _if he still isn't over that butterfly woman this is going to be impossible._

525,596 minutes. Four to go.

Keiichiro glanced up from his sketch pad and saw her looking. If Zakuro had been Lettuce or Ichigo she'd have blushed and hurried away, or totally flipped out, but, being Zakuro, she stayed cool, meeting his gaze steadily. Kaiichiro smiled and gestured to the seat next to him in invitation.

The trouble with Keiichiro was that it was next to impossible to gauge from his behaviour how much he liked you. He was charming to the point of flirtatiousness with every girl he spoke to, and his invitation did not necessarily indicate any genuine desire for her company. Zakuro's stomach crawled when she considered the possibility that he might not actually like her at all, even as a friend. But what was the use of thinking like that? She squared her shoulders and walked over.

'Zakuro-san?' he asked, pulling out a chair for her. 'Are you not enjoying the party?'

'No, I am enjoying it, it's just...'

'Something on your mind?' he prompted gently, his dark eyes warm and concerned. Everything about him made her breathless and set her heart fluttering, his voice, his smile (stupid, maybe-fabricated evidence that he actually gave a damn), his long, unashamedly effeminate ponytail and the way his crisp white shirt lay against his skin. A year (she refused to let herself count it in minutes) since she'd made this resolution and she was still no less scared to try it than she'd been then.

Three minutes left to go...

_Oh, for goodness' sake!_ Zakuro mentally slapped herself. _It's not like he's going to vanish in a puff of smoke the second the clock strikes twelve! Relax. Employ tactics. You've got all night_.

'Maybe,' she said flirtatiously, 'and it looks like I'm not alone. So, can I see what you're drawing?'

'No, I'd rather not...' he replied, pulling his pad off the table and into his arms.

'Oh, come on...' With her Mew reflexes it was a simple matter to duck under his defences and whip the pad out of his hands. By the time she registered the edge in his refusal, she'd flipped it open and a picture of herself was staring her in the face.

Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes.

Fireworks erupted in the sky outside, and Keiichiro fled.

Zakuro stared spellbound at the sketch. It showed her as she had been standing on the other side of the dance floor, gazing into space as though in love. Keiichiro had captured her perfectly. But it was not only the quality of the drawing that set her pulse racing. There was no way a man who was indifferent to her could have depicted her like that.

Either that, or he had a bloody nerve.

There was nothing openly indecent about the drawing, but it was so studied, so sensual, every line lovingly and intimately portrayed. No wonder he hadn't wanted to show it to her.

Suddenly Zakuro snapped out of it. Keiichiro! Where was he? Hiding somewhere, hurt and afraid? She flipped the sketchbook shut and placed it out of sight on her chair, then hurried towards the Staff Only door, her high heels clacking as she went. She was positive he'd gone this way.

She opened the door and sniffed the air, reaching out with her wolf senses for a trace of his scent. She caught it – warm almonds, linen, the crisp tang of aftershave – leading up the stairs to her left. She hurried up the stairs and ended up in the open air, on the balcony.

Keiichiro was standing with his back to her, perfectly still, his face in his hands. As she watched he sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair. Her face softened. He was so beautiful. In the middle of the motion he froze, sensing her presence, and turned.

'Zakuro...' he whispered.

She held up a hand. 'There's no need to apologise. I model for people all the time. And it's a beautiful picture, much better than any of the photographs. There's so much more of _you_ in it.'

He blushed and muttered a stilted 'thank you', turning away from her on the pretext of watching the fireworks.

'Keiichiro-kun?' she said, moving to stand beside him. He looked around sharply, the light of the fireworks jittering across his comely features, reflecting in his eyes.

'Please don't be embarrassed; I'm not.' She glanced down at his fine artists hands. This was not entirely true. 'Knowing the way you see me, it's...quite profound.'

'What are you trying to tell me, Zakuro?'

'I...I like you very much...' Damn, why couldn't she just _say it_? Flirting and teasing was all very well, but he didn't deserve that now, and as for declarations of love...

Well, whatever Mint and the others might think, she really wasn't all that experienced.

'Please, Keiichiro-kun,' she said gently, laying her hand on his. She was starting to shiver a little from the cold, and his hand felt solid and warm. 'If that is the way you see me, don't try to hide it.'

'Zakuro-san,' he sighed, turning fully round to face her and wrapping her hand in both of his, 'don't be foolish. I know you're fond of me, but I couldn't make you happy any more than I could Chris.' He sighed, his beautiful face so sad that it almost brought tears to her eyes. 'You're so young, you deserve a boyfriend who has the time to let himself be thoroughly head over heels for you.'

'But you might be head over heels for me, if you weren't so busy saving the world, right?' she tested.

'You weren't supposed to infer that!' he exclaimed, jerking his hands away from her. She reached out and gently but insistently reclaimed them.

'You forget, Keiichiro, that when you had to call to cancel our dates, I would _understand why_. In fact I'd probably be there fighting.'

'True...' She could see him groping through his head for another argument and wondered why he couldn't just go with the flow. Whatever it was, she was ready to floor it.

'I'm your manager,' he said at last. 'I know you can take care of yourself and it wouldn't count as exploitation, but I just wouldn't want to be giving you orders if you were my girlfriend.'

'Hmmm.' Zakuro pondered this for a moment, and then glanced archly up at him. 'Actually, I quite like it when you boss me around.'

He laughed bashfully, leaning away from her but not looking altogether put out by her advances. _Screw men being the ones to make the first move_, she thought, catching his chin and kissing him. Keiichiro stiffened for a moment, then smiled against her lips and wrapped his warm arms firmly around her, pulling her against him and deepening the kiss.

'About time,' she panted when they broke apart. 'I was getting chilly.' He laughed again and pecked her playfully on the lips.

'Ai! So, you are together now, na no da!'

Zakuro and Keiichiro whipped round in perfect synchronisation to stare in horror at the little blond girl who stood in the doorway, beaming and clapping her hands.

'Pudding is so happy, na no da, we were all tired of Keiichiro-onii-chan moping around, but it's rude to kiss in public!'

'In public...' Zakuro spluttered.

'Ichigo-onee-chan! Retasu-onee-chan! Minto, Ryou! Zakuro-onee-chan and Keiichiro-onii-chan are getting together!'

Zakuro and Keiichiro remained frozen in horror for a second, and then began to scrabble frantically to extricate themselves before an audience showed up. But they were too late. Even as Zakuro disentangled her hands from Keiichiro's braces Ryou appeared at the top of the stairs next to Pudding. He smirked and leaned back against the wall.

'Well well well, look who's scored.'

'Oh, shut up,' Keiichiro growled, rubbing at his face with a handkerchief to try and get some of the lipstick off.

'Maybe we should take this somewhere more private?' Zakuro suggested, twining her arm through his.

'Excellent idea.' Keiichiro took her by the shoulders and began to steer her carefully through the gaggle of wide-eyed Mew Mews who were clustered on the stairs. Zakuro thought they would have to run for hours to shake Pudding off their tail, but it seemed some charitable soul (Retasu) had restrained her, because they made it down the stairs and out to the back of the café without mishap.

'What time is it?' Zakuro wondered dreamily. Keiichiro checked his watch.

'Three minutes past. Why?'

'Dang. There goes my New Year's resolution.'

'What resolution is that?'

'Can't you guess? I resolved to get you to fall in love with me by next New Year. Looks like I was out by a couple of minutes.'

Keiichiro laughed softly, tilting her chin up to gaze into her eyes. 'Zakuro-chan,' he murmured, 'I've been in love with you for much, much longer than that.

Zakuro beamed and laid her head against his chest, sighing contentedly.

'I love you too,' she whispered.

'Have you thought of a resolution for next year yet?' he asked.

'Nuh-uh.' Zakuro shook her head. 'Right now my life seems pretty much perfect.'

'Well I've got one.' He cupped her face in his hands and leaned in until his warm breath tickled her lips. 'Let's resolve to stay together until this time next year, and possibly forever.'

'Done,' she breathed, and their lips met in a sweet, perfect kiss.

**A/N: Dang, that last line was cheesy! But on the plus side:**

**HA! YES! I CAN OFFICIALLY WRITE ONESHOTS NOW! GO ME!**

**Reviews are always appreciated.**


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